


Waltzing Matilda

by WendyGoldAuthor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Australia, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyGoldAuthor/pseuds/WendyGoldAuthor
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger travels to Australia to find her parents and replace their memories. When she gets there, she discovers the Grangers are missing! As she treks through Australia, Hermione runs into a familiar but not-so-welcome face. Draco Malfoy offers her assistance, but can she swallow her pride enough to take his help in relocating her lost parents? Can she hide her attraction to someone who fought on the wrong side of a war that killed so many of her friends? And can she ignore the feelings swirling inside her as the unlikely pair go waltzing matilda through Australia?





	1. Chapter 1

The brass bell of the little Sydney coffeeshop tinkered overhead. The inviting scents of coffee and homemade scones eased the tension in Hermione Granger’s muscles. Her worries dissolved for a moment as cinnamon and vanilla warmed the air.  
As another day passed without any sign of her parents, at least coffee would be there to comfort her.  
Coffee and her favorite barista.  
“Hello, Marie. How’s your day going?” Hermione rested her forearms on the counter, grinding the edge of her worn-down shoes against the wooden floor.  
“G’day, Hermione.” Marie shot a toothy smile over the counter. “You’re usual, flat white?”  
“Yes, please.”  
“My day’s been alright. How about yours? You look like you’ve had a rough one.”  
Hermione could only nod, her muscles not able to give Marie a smile as Marie slipped a steaming hot cup of coffee under her nose.  
“It’s been better,” she said as she handed several coins to the barista. “Thanks.”  
“Anytime, honey.” Marie turned back to the espresso machine as Hermione lifted the cup to her lips and took a long sip. Warmth trickled down her throat, rippling throughout the rest of her body.  
Few things on earth were better than that first sip of fresh coffee.  
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”  
A velvety voice floated over Hermione as she glanced up from her flat white.  
Draco Malfoy stood five feet from her, his coffee and a newspaper resting on a patio table beside him. His eyes roamed over her in disbelief.  
He’d changed.  
Draco was still Draco. He looked like he had just a few months ago at the Battle of Hogwarts. His dark suit contrasted with the ivory of his pale English skin, and those glittery grey eyes sparkled with some sort of riddle Hermione couldn’t solve.  
His lips twisted into a smile. Not the smirk she’d known from their days as children. No, this smile had a warmth and wisdom beyond his years. A smile of someone who’d been through hell and back, and smiled only rarely—when a smile was earned.  
He shook his head as Hermione fought to find words. “Of all the coffee shops, in all the towns, in all the word, you walk into mine.”  
Hermione found her voice as she closed her lips. She hadn’t realized she’d been standing there like a gaping goldfish the entire time. “Hello, Draco.”  
“Care to join me?” He offered her the chair across from him, the one without a newspaper and a coffee cup taking up space.  
Hermione paused, glancing between the empty chair and his steely eyes. Draco’s smile faltered as he fought to hide his uncertainty and he looked…human. Vulnerable and open as he waited for her response.  
“Alright then,” she agreed.  
Draco returned to his seat as Hermione dropped her purse beside her and sat in the wobbly café chair.  
“How are you?” He rested his ankle over his knee as he reached for his nearly empty coffee mug.  
“I’m doing well, thanks.” She reached up, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her cheek.  
Draco’s gaze followed her movement, his eyes lingering on her fingers as they fell from her ear and wrapped around her warm coffee cup.  
He watched her—not like she was prey, something she would have associated with a snake. Rather, he watched her with curiosity.  
Had they ever been this close? Had they ever been alone together?  
Patrons bustled about the small Sydney coffee shop and chatter filled the air around them—they were hardly alone. But for the first time, Hermione caught herself in Draco’s company without Ron and Harry, and without Draco’s school goonies behind him.  
“I’m better than the last time we saw each other,” she said.  
A puff of air like a sarcastic laugh escaped his lips. “The Battle of Hogwarts, isn’t that what they’re calling it?” He raised his mug and drained the rest of his coffee in a large gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, visible just over the crisp ebony collar and diamond knotted tie with an emerald encrusted tie clip—like a Malfoy noose around his neck.  
Hermione ripped her gaze from his tie to those cool grey eyes.  
“So,” he said. “What brings the clever Hermione Granger to Australia, of all places? I thought you’d be out gallivanting around with Weasley and Potter, trying to sop up the mess from this bloody war.” Bitterness soured his voice, any warmth in his expression fading. His lips fell in a tight line as he gazed across the table.  
She shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t seen them in months. They’re out there, rounding up Death Eaters with some of the other aurors. Occasionally, I get an owl from one of them, but we’ve barely spoken in weeks. I’ve been a bit preoccupied as well, so it’s partly my fault.”  
“Oh?” Draco asked, trying to coax more details from her.  
“I’m here to find my parents,” she said. “I’ve been here since July and haven’t found them yet.”  
Draco’s pale eyebrows raised, nearly disappearing under the fringes of blond hair that swiped across his forehead. “You lost your parents? Halfway around the world?”  
Hermione nodded.  
“How on earth did you manage to do that?” A small smirk tilted the corner of Draco’s lips.  
“I sent them here,” Hermione said. “When the war began, I sent them to Melbourne, but I haven’t seen them since. I was there for weeks, but it’s like they vanished. The only thing I’ve managed to hunt down was a bank receipt that said they bought two plane tickets from Melbourne to Sydney in February.”  
Draco nodded, his lip twitching.  
“It’s not funny!” she snapped.  
“I’m not laughing,” he said. “There’s just an irony that the cleverest witch in our year managed to relocate her parents to a different country, and somehow lost them.”  
Annoyance pinched in Hermione’s gut like a mosquito. “I’m glad you find this so amusing, Malfoy.”  
At the sound of his name on her lips, he frowned. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”  
His playfulness disappeared as he leaned forward against the table. He reached over, his long, thin fingers slipping between hers. Though he seemed cool and icy, his hands were warm as they closed around hers.  
Something unfurled in Hermione’s belly. The worry and unease she’d felt these last few weeks slipped away, giving way to something stronger…something happy.  
How long had it been since she’d even touched someone else? She’d been alone in a strange country for two months now. No hugs. No kisses. No hand-holding. No touches.  
In one of the friendliest countries in the world, she couldn’t even remember the last time she was on one end of a handshake.  
Her breath caught in her chest as Draco’s fingers entwined with hers. His thumb traced along the line stretching the expanse of her palm.  
The touch tickled, but a shiver of excitement raced up her arm.  
“I’ll ask around for you,” he said, pulling his hand from hers with a faint smile. “I’m sure someone here has seen them. I think I know someone who might be able to assist you.”  
Shock froze her muscles for a moment. Was he serious? Proud pureblood, Draco Malfoy, helping a woman he’d once called a mudblood.  
“Wait, you’d help me?”  
Draco laughed, the musical sound filling the room like an orchestra. “Yes, Hermione. I’m offering to help you. That is if you even want my help. After all—”  
“Thank you.” On a puff of air, as her throat tightened, Hermione smiled at him. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was Draco Malfoy sitting across from her, she might have thrown her arms around him and kissed him right in front of the entire coffee shop.  
“You can thank me once we find them.” Draco nodded.  
“Sorry mates,” Marie shouted over the bar. “But we’re closing up now.”  
“Looks like we’re about to overstay our welcome.” Draco rose from his chair, buttoned up his suit jacket and snatched his newspaper off the table.  
“Let me give you the address of where I’m staying,” Hermione said.  
She reached over and lifted the stained napkin from under his coffee cup. She pulled a pen from her purse, scribbled down her address and the telephone number to the flat where she was staying, and handed it to him.  
He took the napkin, the tips of his fingers brushing against hers. Fresh shivers raced under her skin as something eager and excited bubbled in her belly, like a wonderful potion.  
“Draco,” she said, his name lingering in the air. “Thank you.”  
“I’ll be in touch.” With a final nod to her, Draco Malfoy tucked the dirty napkin in the pocket of his trousers and spun on the heels of his designer shoes. The tinkling bell overhead signaled his departure before he vanished into the Sydney sidewalk traffic.  
“Girl, I’m jealous,” Marie said as she wiped her hands on a towel and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ve been eyeing that bloke for weeks.”  
“He’s been here that long?” Hermione turned to Marie, curiosity getting the better of her.  
“At least a month now, I’d say,” Marie answered. “But you’re a lucky one. You could do worse. Smart move, giving him your number.”  
“It wasn’t like that.” Hermione’s cheeks warmed as heat crept up her neck.  
Had she accidentally flirted with Draco Malfoy?  
“Sure, it wasn’t.” Marie shot her a wink before retreating back behind the counter. “See you tomorrow!”  
Hermione left the coffee shop and headed back to her small flat several blocks away.  
Divination was her only academic weakness, a subject of pointless guessing and vague symbolism. But fate…maybe fate was real. Halfway around the world, she’d not only run into an old schoolmate but one who might help her find her lost parents. One who she wanted to forget about. One whose eyes haunted her for so many nights, for years.  
Of all the coffee shops…


	2. Chapter 2

Ring! Ring!  
Hermione’s attention snapped out of her book to the phone hung up across the room. Her mind fought to bring herself out of her fantasy world and back into reality.   
Ring! Ring!  
Hermione eased her stiff legs out from a crossed-legged position and hobbled a bit across the small flat, reaching for the telephone before the answering machine picked up.  
“Hello?” She bent her knees, trying to get more feeling through her lower limbs as she spoke.  
“Hermione?” Draco’s satiny voice floated through the telephone line.  
For a moment, her heart froze in her chest, before it revved into life again, beating harder and louder. She caught herself smiling for an instant before she controlled herself.  
“This is she speaking,” she squeaked.  
“It’s Draco. I’m sorry it took me a week to get back to you, but I’ve finally been in touch with my contact. He’s agreed to help you locate your parents.”   
Hermione leaned against the wall, her fingers toying with the twisted cord as he spoke. She tried to focus on his words and ignore the fluttering feeling in her belly.  
Draco cleared his throat before he continued. “My contact needs some information from you. Meet me at the coffee shop in an hour. The office we need to go to is only a few blocks from there.”  
“Of course.” A rush of excitement coursed through Hermione, a giddy bubble expanding in her chest. “I’ll see you there in an hour. Oh, and Draco?”  
“Yes?” he asked.  
“Coffee’s on me this afternoon. You know, to say thank you.”  
A soft chuckle echoed through the receiver and Hermione’s heart melted like liquid butter on popcorn.  
“Absolutely not,” he said. “And you can thank me once we find your parents.” With a soft click, the line went dead.  
Once we find your parents…  
Hope bubbled in Hermione’s gut. Was Draco going to help her, even after he put her in touch with his contact? How far would he go to help her locate her missing parents? She was willing to search under every rock and pebble from here to Perth if she had to, but would he help her?  
She placed the phone back into its cradle and stepped into the small washroom to shower.  
An hour later, she strolled up to the coffee shop entrance just as Draco was walking out with two coffees in hand. His gaze caught hers, that twinkle in his grey eyes blazing into a roaring fire as his gaze wandered over her for a moment.  
Hermione’s breath stuck in her chest, her heart pounding as dizziness fogged her brain. Luckily, her feet continued to move her forward while the rest of her body felt like a tornado of uncontrolled nerves.   
“Flat white?” he asked, handing her a cup. “I assumed you don’t add sugar since I didn’t see you put in any yesterday.”  
“You remembered my coffee order?” Hermione blinked in surprise, taking the cup from Draco’s slender fingers. She made sure not to touch him, afraid she might forget herself and drop the scalding liquid onto one of them.  
She raised the cup to her lips and took a long sip, grateful for the refreshing wave of heavenly liquid.  
Draco said nothing, though a faint blush stained his chiseled cheeks a rosy pink shade. “The office is only around the corner.” He nodded for her to follow along.  
Hermione tried to keep in time with his steps, but he was half a foot taller than her so she hurried her pacing, careful not to spill any hot coffee out of the small hole in the lid of her cup.   
Draco glanced down, slowing his stride and raising his cup to his lips. They said nothing as they rounded the corner and wandered up to a large office complex on a busy Sydney street.  
The building rose in an impressive tower of silvery steels and icy blue-frosted glass. Muggles bustled in and out of the revolving doors, pouring out of the building for their commutes home.  
“This is where your contact works?” she asked.  
“Yes,” he said.  
“Is he a muggle?” Hermione had a difficult time believing Draco Malfoy would ever conduct business with a muggle. But she also never expected him to help a muggle-born find their parents halfway around the world.  
At the word “muggle,” Draco let out a soft laugh, a smile tugging on his lips.   
They walked through a revolving door and up to the main security desk in the lobby. Draco nodded to the balding man sitting in a swivel chair at the front desk. “Twenty-eighth floor, please Tom.”  
Hermione nearly choked on her coffee. Draco Malfoy being polite to a muggle? Malfoy helping a muggle-born he’d once called a “mudblood?” What on earth was this world coming to?  
Maybe with Voldemort gone, hell had frozen over.  
Hermione and Draco handed over their passports and took them back once Tom finished logging them into his log-book.   
“Lift is on the left.” Tom barked with the gruff voice of someone who smoked too often and was eagerly awaiting his next cigarette break.  
“Thanks.” Draco tapped his knuckles on the desk. He turned, his shoes clacking on the marble flooring as Hermione’s sneakers squeaked beside him. She followed Draco into a lift, watching the door shut in front of her.  
She was in a confined space with Draco Malfoy. What had this world come to?  
“I should warn you,” Draco said with a warning purr in his voice. “Mr. Pemberley is an old-fashioned pure-blood. He might be a bit aggressive towards you, but he owes me a favor. Several in fact. He knows I’m here to collect on those, but his debts might not curb his attitude.”  
Hermione could only nod. Unease gelled under her skin, a sixth sense telling her she was walking into a den of wolves dressed in a muggle-born meat suit.  
As the doors parted, Draco stepped aside and let her out first. Hermione walked into the dimly lit hallway, glancing between several office doors with sunlight streaming in through windows. He opened a glass door with no signs, labels, or writing. A small lobby with a dusty couch and an empty receptionist’s desk greeted them.  
“You’re late!” A shrill voice barked from a back room.   
Draco lifted his arm and slid the cuff of his suit jacket. “It’s five o’clock, I’m precisely on time.”  
“Ah,” the voice said as its owner rounded the corner.   
A short wizard with a balding patch on the top of his coppery hair grinned at them. His crooked smile slipped as his eyes landed on Hermione. “Early is on time. On time is late. And late means I don’t do business with you.”  
“I’m on time,” Draco insisted, pointing to the clock over the receptionist’s desk. The big hand rested high on the number twelve. “And you’ll do business with me, no matter what time I walk in.”  
Draco’s voice dipped to an icy tone, one Hermione had often heard him use at Hogwarts. Though his voice was deeper and sharper, with more menace and power sewn into each word.  
A shiver raced down Hermione’s spine, resting in her lower belly—a shiver, not from fear, but one she was only beginning to understand as a woman.  
“Right this way.” Pemberley’s fake smile fled, his lips pressing in a tight line as he stomped back down the small hallway leading to a back office.  
Hermione followed, with Draco trailing behind her. Pemberley strolled into in a small conference room. A rickety dining room table stood in the middle of the closet-sized room. Stacks of white boxes and manila file folders lined one wall. He sat in front of the pile and waited for Hermione and Draco to be seated.  
“Draco tells me you’re in need of my help.” Pemberley frowned.  
“Yes, I—”  
“So, the so-called cleverest witch in all the world needs me to help her? And why on earth should I do that, Hermione Granger?”  
“Because I told you to,” Draco snapped. He rested his arms on the scuffed arm rests and leaned back like he was a king on a throne. “You owe me, Pemberley, and I’ve come to collect.”  
For a moment, Hermione saw a reflection of Draco’s father sitting beside her. Cool and collected, in charge and almost terrifying in how he wielded his power and social status without a single threat or insult.  
“No one is to know about this,” Pemberley hissed at Draco.  
“I don’t give a damn who knows,” Draco snapped. “I just want this handled quickly, professionally, and without any harm to anyone. Is that understood?”  
Pemberley’s frown tilted into a frustrated snarl, his eyebrows crinkling together as he nodded. “Understood.”  
“Good.” Draco nodded coolly to the man as he turned his gaze on Hermione. “Do you have any photographs? Any receipts? Anything at all you think might be useful?”  
Hermione reached into her charmed purse, pulled out a thick manila folder and handed it off to Pemberley. He snatched it, but she kept her calm, waiting as he thumbed through photographs of her parents, receipts from any expenses she could dig up in Melbourne, their professional curricula vitarum, a list of relatives, and the short list of contacts she had made while on her near-backpacking trip through Australia.  
The minutes stretched by as Pemberley examined each piece of evidence with an odd expression of curiosity and disgust.  
“I’ll be in touch.” With a wave of his hand, Pemberley dismissed them as he spread out the papers over the conference table.   
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Draco rose from his seat, buttoned his suit jacket and left the room.  
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered.  
Pemberley froze, his eyes fixated on a bank receipt, refusing to acknowledge her.  
After several drawn-out seconds of embarrassing silence, Hermione turned and followed Draco out of the office and back down into the lobby.  
“That went well,” she huffed, sarcasm dripping like syrup from her lips.  
“He’ll do his job, and that’s what matters.” Draco’s shoulders eased as they huddled in a secluded corner of the building’s lobby, careful not to be overheard. “He’s one of the most skilled wizards I know, and I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think he could help.”  
“I know,” she said. “Thank you, again, Draco. It’s a relief to at least have a lead here in Sydney and another set of eyes and ears to help me.”  
Draco’s icy expression softened. The sharp business-like Malfoy melted into a warmer Draco—one Hermione was beginning to almost like.   
“No need to thank me, Hermione. I’m happy to help. Though, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look exhausted.” His lips tilted in a teasing smile.  
Hermione gaped, playfully swatting him on the arm. “Isn’t it rude to point out that people look tired?”  
Draco shrugged. “I wasn’t raised with the best manners, Hermione. You of all people should know that.”  
A blush warmed her cheeks as she tore her gaze away from his silvery eyes. Suddenly she had a keen interest in the length of her fingernails and the horrible condition of her cuticles.  
“Come on,” Draco said. “Let’s go have dinner.”  
He draped an arm around her shoulder, warmth sliding down her body like stepping into a hot shower.   
And with that simple gesture, Hermione Granger allowed Draco Malfoy to take her out for dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco slipped into the velvet-lined booth across from Hermione, glancing at the wine list. “Red or white?” he asked with a casual note as Hermione shimmied out of her jacket.  
Draco’s eyes rose from the menu, watching her movements.   
Hermione pretended not to notice his eyes dip to her cleavage for only a moment before returning to her face—he was only human after all. Relieved she’d worn a feminine top and her best jeans today, she rested her jacket on top of her handbag beside her.  
“I prefer red, but I’ll drink white,” she answered, trying to sound as sophisticated as the restaurant they were currently sitting in.   
High walls stretched above them as candlelight flickered along the tables. Old-fashioned lanterns cast the room in an unearthly glow—a surprisingly romantic place to stop for dinner after the gritty business meeting they’d just had with Pemberley.   
Draco placed the menu down beside him and laced his fingers together. He rested his chin on them, examining her with a curiosity she hadn’t known he’d possessed.  
The waiter approached their table, and Draco gave him their wine and dinner order before the young waiter shuffled away. Moments later, the sommelier sauntered to their table, opened a bottle of vintage Bordeaux with an unnecessary flourish and filled their glasses.  
As the sommelier left them in peace, Draco asked, “So, how long have you been in Sydney?”   
“Seven weeks,” she answered. Hermione released an exasperated sigh, resting back in her seat as she tamped down her frustration. “Seven weeks in Sydney, six in Melbourne. And I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress at all. I was hoping I’d have found my parents by now, at least by my birthday.”  
“Your birthday?” Draco’s thin eyebrow rose in question as he leaned back, mimicking her movements.  
“My birthday’s tomorrow,” Hermione frowned. “I wanted to spend it with them. Not alone in some strange country, still out searching for them.”  
“You’re not alone,” Draco pointed out. He lifted his wine glass and nodded for her to do the same. She followed suit, lifting her glass. “Cheers, Hermione. I promise you, you won’t be alone tomorrow.”  
“Oh?” she asked. “Do you know a secret locator spell? Because I’ve been in every magical library this side of Australia and I haven’t found—”  
Draco let out a bark of a laugh. “Hermione Granger, some things never change. When in doubt, go to the library. No, I don’t know a spell. However, I do know how to cheer people up, and I think you’ve needed cheering up these last few weeks. Tomorrow, I’m going to cheer you up. That’s my birthday present to you.”  
Hermione let out of a soft laugh as he clinked their glasses together. “Why are you being so nice to me, Draco?” she asked. “I thought you loathed me.”  
“Oh, on the contrary, I’ve always admired you, Hermione. Sometimes you got on my nerves. You were always a bit of a showoff and a know-it-all. But underneath that, I thought you were brilliant. You were one of the few students who could get higher grades in me in every class. No matter how hard I studied, and how much time and effort I put into classes, you still beat me.”  
“So, you admire me for beating you?” Hermione’s skepticism flooded her voice as she straightened in her seat. Something in her gut preened like a proud peacock.  
Draco let out a soft laugh, followed by a smile that left her heart pounding in her chest. His smile glowed in the candlelight.   
Her pride vanished for a moment, captivated by his smile in the soft light around them.   
Draco set his wine glass down, eyeing her with amusement. “I admire you for your intelligence. Your cleverness, your bravery, your wit. I like you for so much more than just your brains though.”  
A soft gasp slipped from Hermione’s lips.  
“You don’t have to look so shocked,” Draco noted. “Did you think I could ever say anything? With Potter and Weasley hovering over you and scowling every time I stood within ten feet? No, I could never find a chance to be alone with you. For such a large school, privacy was a rare thing to come by. And a chance encounter was even rarer.”  
“But you were so mean.” Hermione’s accusation came out, not like an arrow aimed to hurt, but a hurdle placed in front of Draco. And she wondered how he could jump over it if it was even possible.  
His broad shoulders shrugged, his suit jacket lifting with his toned frame. Hermione could almost feel his muscles rolling, his body tensing and relaxing.  
She wondered what those muscles would feel like beneath her fingertips…  
“I was a prick,” Draco said. “I won’t pretend I was anything but cruel to you those first few years at Hogwarts, Hermione. And for that, I am terribly sorry. I was naïve and foolish and young, and I thought everything my family believed was right.”  
“Are you saying you’ve had a change of heart?” she asked.  
Draco didn’t answer. He reached across the table, his fingers wrapping around the stem of his wine glass before raising it to his lips. He let the question linger in the air. “I’m helping a muggle-born find her parents halfway around the world,” he said. “Actions speak louder than words, Hermione.”  
Hermione reached for her own glass, taking a large gulp of wine before setting her glass back down. “Thank you, Draco.”  
“You keep thanking me.” Draco reached his hand across the table, capturing hers in his. Their fingers entwined, the warmth of his hand rippling up her arm. “I’m happy to help you, Hermione. It’s the least I can do after how horribly I treated you when we were kids.”  
He released her hand, but her gaze lingered on her fingers for a moment too long.  
“But we’re not kids anymore, Draco,” she whispered.  
His gaze burned like fresh steel forged in a fire. “No, Hermione. We’re not.”  
Tension crackled in the air, a fizzling in Hermione’s body telling her to behave in a way she never had before. Bold. Brazen. She wanted to lean forward across the table and—  
“I have the petite filet,” said their waiter, resting a plate under Draco’s nose. The waiter and the scent of hot food broke the spell between them.  
They both smiled up at their waiter as he rested dish after dish onto their small table, cluttering it and leaving no space for hands and lingering touches.  
“Thank you,” Draco said as the waiter sauntered off.  
“Now, about your birthday,” Draco said as he lifted his knife and fork. “I have several ideas in mind. Meeting me at Hyde Park at noon. You’ve been here for weeks, though I doubt you’ve seen any of Sydney.”  
Hermione opened her lips to protest, but she couldn’t. He was right.  
His voice dipped for a moment. “Good,” he said. “Let me show you Sydney.” He reached for his wine with a flicker of a smile that could have been a trick of the light.  
He dropped his voice so low that Hermione barely heard him say, “Let me show you everything.”

 

***Hi all! Liking the story so far? Please don't forget to leave kudos or a review! Thank you all so much for reading! XOXO Wendy


	4. Chapter 4

Droplets of water glittered in the air and splashed into the pool of Archibald Fountain in the middle of Hyde Park. Children raced around the edge, sticking their hands in the water while parents looked on from shaded benches. Saint Mary’s Cathedral towered just beyond the park, the massive stone church clashing with the brilliantly colorful flora and fauna.  
Hermione adjusted the strap on her bag as she waited for Draco to arrive. Her fingers drummed on the edge of the smoothed wood on a bench, hunched forward as she stared at the statue of Theseus and the Minotaur.  
She wondered if this might have been a joke, a wicked and evil prank concocted to get Hermione’s hope up and smash them to pieces. Though that did not seem like the Draco she’d come to know in Australia, it certainly was child’s play for the Malfoy she remembered in school.  
“Happy birthday.” A creamy rich voice frosted Hermione’s senses as Draco rounded behind her and stood beside her bench.  
“Thank you,” she heard herself say.  
Draco smiled down at her, his black leather jacket a stark contrast to his pale English skin. His eyes twinkled in the mid-day sunlight as he reached his hand out for hers.  
Cautiously, like lowering her hand into a snake pit, she slid her palm over his and let him help her stand.  
Rather than drop her hand, Draco laced his fingers with hers. Hermione’s muscles froze for a moment, confused before they eased against his touch. Her body relaxed as she followed him through Hyde Park.  
“So, how much of Sydney have you seen since you’ve been here?” he asked, pointing out a strange yellow bird flitting through a bush.  
“I’ve been all over Sydney,” she said.  
“That’s not what I asked.” Draco flashed her a cocky smile. “Being somewhere and seeing somewhere are two very different things, Hermione. How much of Sydney have you really seen? Have you stopped and just soaked in your surroundings? When was the last time you noticed the palm trees in the middle of a park? Or went bird watching just to see what lived here? Have you bothered to observe the locals?”  
Hermione shook her head. “No, I’m here to find my parents, Draco. I’m not here to sightsee.”  
“Well,” he began. “Today you’re taking a break. Someone else is out there looking for them. Today you can take it easy. We’re going sightseeing. You need to experience Sydney while you’re still in Sydney.”  
They crossed the street out of the park where Draco slipped some coins into a payphone and called a taxi. A few minutes later, their ride arrived.  
“Where are we going?” she asked as a taxi pulled in front of them.  
“Wherever we want.” Draco’s smile burst into a full-on grin as he ushered her inside, his body nearly vibrating with contained excitement. “Have you at least seen the Sydney Opera House?” he asked as he scooched into the seat beside her.  
“No, I don’t think my parents would have done the touristy stuff, so I never bothered.”  
“Driver,” Draco glanced at the dashboard. “Mr. Ernest, could you please take us to the Sydney Opera House? Apparently, this young woman has never seen one of the most iconic sites your brilliant city has to offer.”  
The driver let out a small laugh. “Of course!” Ernest merged into oncoming traffic and chatted with them along the driving route, giving Draco and Hermione an insider’s glimpse of a city that seemed so vast and wonderful and new.  
“And to your right, you’ll see a wonderful view of the Harbour with the Opera House. It’s lovely at sunset,” Ernest said as he drove down a smaller road leading closer to the dock. “It’s very romantic at night, for you and your boyfriend, miss.”  
Hermione opened her mouth to speak as Draco cracked a smile mixed with a laugh. “We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Ernest.” Draco slipped several colorful notes to the driver as Hermione stepped out of the taxi. Draco exited the car and took her hand as he led her along a walkway that offered them a spectacular view of the Sydney Opera House.  
They strolled over to a bench in silence, sitting and gazing out at the boats sailing along the Harbour. People milled about and in the distance. Flocks of birds squawked and chirped all around them.  
“It’s so peaceful here,” Hermione heard herself say.  
“Sydney is a beautiful city,” he said.  
She turned to stare, enjoying this view even more than the Opera House. “Draco, why are you here, halfway around the world? Are you hiding something?”  
Draco’s eyes flickered with worry before frosting over, his icy, calm demeanor flipping on like a switch somewhere in his mind. “I left when the Ministry started rounding up Death Eaters,” he admitted. “My parents went to Germany for a bit until the hunts cooled and they could pull the right strings with the right people. They’re back home now, but I’m not so sure I want to return to England.”  
“Why not?” she asked. “Won’t you be safe now, if your parents are alright?”  
Draco sighed and squeezed Hermione’s hand as his fingertips traced invisible patterns on the insides of her palms. A shiver of excitement raced up her arm, making her heart flutter.  
Draco Malfoy was caressing her. Not touching, not holding hands, not guiding her anywhere. Caressing her…  
“I don’t agree with my parents’ beliefs,” he began. “Even after the death and destruction that’s happened, they still think they’re superior to so many people—so many good, smart people.” Draco squeezed her hand before pulling away.  
“So, you don’t hate muggle-borns?” she asked.  
Draco shook his head as he stared out at the water.  
“Is that why you’re helping me?” she asked. “To prove something to yourself?  
“No,” he snapped. He turned to her, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight, even as he frowned. “No, Hermione. I’m not doing this to prove anything. I’m doing this because I genuinely want to help you. When I saw you the other day, standing in the coffee shop…You didn’t seem like yourself. You looked tired, weary, ready to collapse in the middle of the coffee shop. I knew I had to do something, anything, in my power to help you with whatever was making you look so sad.”  
“I looked sad?” she asked.  
Draco reached up toward her, his thumb brushing aside a stray lock of brown hair that framed the edge of her face, tucking it behind her ear. The rough pad of his thumb traced over the soft swell of her cheek before pulling away.  
His heat lingered on her skin like a brand before the cool wind blew it away. For a moment, she missed his touch, and she smiled at the fuzzy feeling inside her belly.  
“You looked lost,” he said. “And more than anything, you looked lonely. Like you needed someone to help you. I’m just glad I was there to see you, to help you.”  
Draco’s face broke into an affectionate smile, one Hermione had never seen in all their years at school. This was a new facet of Draco Malfoy’s diamond exterior—this warm, caring side he’d never displayed to anyone.  
Hermione’s heart squeezed in her chest for a reason she couldn’t quite understand. And she was a witch who could understand nearly anything…  
“Come on.” Draco stood and offered her his hand. “I know a wizard pub not too far from here where a lot of the locals meet. I think we could both use a drink right about now.”  
Hermione nodded and slipped her hand in his. His hand with hers felt right. Him walking beside her felt right. Strolling around a strange city with an old enemy felt…right.

***Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please please leave kudos or a review if you did!


	5. Chapter 5

The Jolly Jumbuck was tucked away between two clothing shops that looked as though they hadn’t been open for years. The exterior of the bar appeared nothing short of frightening—abandon all hope ye who enter here. The outside seemed to be a cross between a dive bar and a place that sold drugs somewhere in the back room—a place no tourist would ever step foot inside.  
Hermione hesitated as Draco held open the front door and nodded for her to go inside. The bar was half-empty in the middle of a Thursday afternoon. Witches and wizards—some in robes and others in muggle clothing—milled about with beers and glasses in hand as they chatted.  
Australian memorabilia littered the walls, from the Australian flag, to autographed Quidditch team shirts, to vinyl records signed by wizard and muggle performers, and a hundred knick-knacks in between.  
Draco and Hermione plopped themselves down onto wobbly stools at the corner of the large L-shaped bar.  
“How’d you find this place?” she asked.  
“A friend of the family,” Draco said with a casual wave of his hand.  
“Your family must have a lot of friends,” Hermione murmured as the bartender strolled up to them.  
“G’day mates, what can I get you?” The young bartender cracked a wide smile at Hermione as his eyes roamed up and down for a moment longer than necessary.  
“Two shots of Jägermeister and two Tooheys,” Draco snapped. He draped his arm over Hermione’s shoulder and shot a seething glare at the bartender. “The lady’s parched. Make it quick.”  
“Sure thing” the bartender said as he sauntered off with the same cheery smile.  
“Sorry about that.” Draco leaned back but kept his arm draped over her shoulders like a cloak. “I’m sure you have to deal with that sort of rude behavior often.”  
“Not that often,” Hermione said, wishing the blush on her cheeks would go away, but with her English skin she knew her skin must be a brilliant shade of rose pink.  
“’Ello Draco!” Two young wizards in their mid-twenties came bustling up behind him, clapping Draco on the back and forcing his hand to fall from Hermione’s shoulder. “Good to see ya! And who’s this pretty bird you got here with ya?” A beefy man with a bushy black beard nodded in Hermione’s direction as he dropped his hand from Draco’s shoulder.  
“Jim, this is Hermione Granger,” Draco said.  
The large man stuck his hand out. Hermione shook it with a firm grip that left Jim blinking in surprise. “Nice to meet ya, Miss Granger. This is my mate, Hal.”  
A young man in tangerine wizard robes with sandy blonde hair smiled at her. Hal offered his hand to Hermione, though rather than shake it, he lifted it to his lips and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand.  
Hermione offered a polite smile to him while Draco seethed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”  
“What’s a beauty like you doing with a bloke like Draco?” Hal asked with the slur of an Aussie accent.  
“Draco’s been showing me around Sydney this afternoon,” she answered.  
“Two shots. Two beers.” The bartender slammed their glasses on the bar as Draco slipped the man a colorful bill.  
“Cheers,” he said to Hermione as he pushed the shot of Jägermeister in front of her. They lifted their glasses and Draco gently tapped his tiny glass to hers. “Happy birthday, Hermione.”  
Hermione downed the burning, tar-like liquid in one large gulp, grabbing her beer to chase away the nasty fire-and-brimstone flavor filling her mouth.  
Jim and Hal laughed as she stuck out her tongue and made a face. “Not used to shots, are ya?” Jim asked.  
“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Not at all.” Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as she took a large gulp of her beer and waited for the taste to leave her mouth.  
“So, it’s your birthday?” Hal leaned against the bar as his eyes roamed over her for a moment.  
Draco slammed his empty glass down on the bar. “Back off, Hal.”  
“Yes,” Hermione said, ignoring Draco’s sudden outburst. “I’m nineteen.”  
“Oy, we need to celebrate!” Jim slammed his hand down on the bar. “Dustan, another round of shots. It’s the young lady’s birthday. We need to show her some good ol’ Aussie hospitality.” Jim cracked a wide smile as Dustan lined up four glasses along the bar, pouring Jägermeister into each.  
Hermione braced herself as the four of them took a shot glass.  
“To Hermione,” Hal toasted. They clinked their glasses together, and in one quick movement, Hermione shot the liquid into the back of her throat. She swallowed as quickly as she could and tried to avoid letting the liquid hit her taste buds.  
Her eyes burned and she coughed, placing her glass bottoms up on the table.  
“Like a true champion.” Jim clapped her on the back, eliciting another cough from her as she reached for her beer.  
“Oy, turn the song up, Dustan!”  
Hal pushed himself off the bar and Jim joined him.  
“What are they doing?” Hermione asked Draco before finishing her drained her beer. The Jägermeister taste still clung to the roof of her mouth and the bottom of her tongue.  
Hal, Jim, and the rest of the bar began dancing, clapping and cheering.  
“It’s an Aussie thing,” Draco said with a knowing smirk like he had an inside secret she was about to see.  
“Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, under the shade of a coolibah tree,” the crowd sang.  
Hermione began clapping in time with the music, giggling at the riotous, outrageousness of it all. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she laughed. Her head fogged up a bit as that first bit of alcohol-hazed her thoughts.  
Draco’s grin matched her own as he began to clap along, watching the Australians dance and sing in an array of mismatched voices.  
“He sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled. You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.”  
Jim swung by them and gripped Hermione’s forearm, yanking her off the chair.  
She tossed her head back and laughed as he pulled her into the mob of people dancing and shuffling around. He linked his arm with hers and spun her around in an improvised line dance.  
“Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.”  
Hermione spun out of Jim’s arm and linked arms with an Australian wizard in pale blue robes, then an elderly man she’d never seen before, then a woman with a bandana tied around her head as the song continued.  
She glanced back and saw Draco, spinning a middle-aged witch in navy blue robes around in the mob line dance that formed in the middle of the Jolly Jumbuck.  
Hermione’s head and body spun as the sheer joy of the moment caught up with her. She turned in Hal’s arms and flung out of his grip, just in time to link her arm with Draco.  
“Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.”  
Draco’s smile shifted as he leaned in closer. His arm slipped from Hermione’s arm, to wrap around her waist.  
Her breath caught between them as his hard body pressed against her. Her curves yielded to his strong frame. His head dipped.  
And Draco captured her lips with his.  
Hermione’s head spun from liquor and dancing and giddiness as she returned his kiss.  
Fireworks sounded somewhere in the back of her mind, her body rocking like she stood on a boat. Her mind raced as his tongue slipped against hers. She tasted alcohol and something distinctly Draco—a flavor that left her insatiable.  
The kiss ended as quickly as it began. Draco pulled his head back with that special diamond-facet smile—the one only for her—as the song lulled to an end.  
“You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me. Oh, you'll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.”

**Hi all! hope you liked this story. Don't forget to leave a review or kudos! XOXO Wendy


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione and Draco stepped out of the Jolly Jumbuck and into the brisk twilight air. Most of the crowds around the Harbour lingered about as they sat on benches and watched the ships go sailing.  
“Ernest was right.” Draco pointed to the Sydney Opera House. “Watching the sunset from here is beautiful.”  
Hermione followed the trail of his finger. Brilliantly lit hues of orange, rose, and daffodil-yellow mixed and blended into an inky blue sky that threatened to consume the light. Stars twinkled in the blackness looming on the edge. Light from the Sydney Opera House bounced off the rippling waves, shadows cast out over the water.  
“I believe the word he used was romantic,” Hermione said. “And he’s right.”  
Draco shifted his gaze to her and offered up that diamond smile—the one that left her feeling giddier than two shots of Jägermeister. He reached for her hand, linking their fingers together as they strolled along the Harbour.  
Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest as she caught herself glancing between the ships sailing along, to Draco’s smile, to the fading sunlight and the stars winking at them overhead. She couldn’t decide which view was best, so she tied to soak it all in as much as possible.  
They stopped at a spot that gave them a clear view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House. Draco released her hand and together they leaned against a railing, looking up at the twilight sky.  
“I’m sorry you couldn’t spend the day with your parents.” Draco’s voice filled with a warmth and sincerity that left her knees weak and her bottom lip quivering.  
She would not cry today—on her birthday—when she’d spent so many nights crying alone in her bed, wishing she could find them. At last today she wasn’t alone—and that should have been enough of a reason to stop the tears.  
But she wasn’t, and a treacherous tear slipped down her cheek.  
“Hermione?” Draco’s smile faded as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close to him. “You’re crying. What’s wrong?”  
“I just miss them. So much,” she sobbed. “And I’ve been alone in a strange country for weeks.” She pressed her damp cheeks against the soft cotton of his shirt. His scent filled her nostrils—cologne, beer, sweat—and soothed her enough to keep the flood of threatening tears away. She slid her hands around his waist, her fingers clinging to his soft cotton shirt over thick muscle.  
“You should have never had to go through this alone.” Draco slipped his hand in her hair and planting a solid kiss on the top of her head, grounding her.  
For the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts—since Ron’s kiss on the battlefield—she felt safe.  
The thought of Ron fighting with Death Eaters half a world away left her drained for a moment as she sunk deeper into Draco’s arms.   
“Thank you, Draco,” she muttered against his chest as she pulled back. “For everything. I had no idea you were so kind.”  
Draco’s smile hypnotized her as his hand reached up and wiped away a stray tear. “You deserve nothing but kindness, Hermione. Not just for how I treated you in school, but because you’re a good person. You deserve the world.”  
A group of young teenagers strolled past them, making obnoxious kissing sounds and cackling.  
Draco rolled his eyes, breaking apart from Hermione as the moment was ruined. They returned to leaning against the railing and watched the sunset, their bodies huddled closer, their arms pressed against one another.   
“So, what will you do once you find your parents?” Draco asked.  
“I don’t know,” Hermione said.   
“Oh, come on,” he prodded. “You were the cleverest witch in our year, probably the smartest to ever attend Hogwarts. Are you really telling me that you have no bloody idea what you’re going to do with your life?”  
The question rang hollow in her mind and she shrugged. She had no idea what she would do, and that terrified her. “I’ve been so focused on finding my parents, I haven’t thought about it much.” She tried to sound casual, ignoring the sudden whirlwind of panic spinning in her gut.  
He gave her a little nudge with his elbow and a tender smile. “Well, if you could do anything, anything in the world, what would it be?”  
The gears in Hermione’s mind turned as she thought for a long moment. “Minister for Magic,” she said. “I think I could do a lot of good there. Help set the wizarding world right.”  
“Then do it,” Draco said.  
Hermione let out a small laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”  
“Happiness is never simple,” he said. “But you’re the only person who can make yourself happy. You can’t rely on someone else to do it for you. So, if being the Minister for Magic is what would make you happiest, then find out how to make it happen and go for it.”  
Hermione chuckled. “Maybe you have a point there, Draco.”  
“Have you talked to the new Headmaster at Hogwarts?” Draco asked. “Perhaps you should go back to school and finish your N.E.W.T.s. You won’t be able to get a job in the Ministry without good marks, after all.”  
“And what about you?” she asked, changing the conversation. “What will the infamous Draco Malfoy do once I find my parents and leave? Will you stay in Australia?”  
Draco ripped his gaze from her and stared out at the water. Shadows played over his face in the darkness as he frowned, retreating into his thoughts for a moment.  
Hermione wished she could go there with him and see what he was thinking.  
“I don’t think so,” he said. “If spending time with you these last couple of days has taught me anything, it’s that I need to confront my parents. You’ve reinforced everything this war has taught me. It’s time to put old hate and differences aside.”  
“How do you think they’ll react?” she asked. “Are you prepared for them to throw you out? Maybe even disown you?”  
Draco shrugged. “I’ll manage. This is the right thing to do.”  
Hermione beamed up at him as he faced her.  
Something he read in her smile brought a light to his eyes, and his diamond smile returned. That was all the reward she needed for the night.  
“It’s getting dark,” she said, pointing out to the horizon. Most of the light was gone, swallowed by velvety blackness and twinkling stars overhead.   
“Right,” Draco said with a sharp nod. “I’ll take you home.” They stepped away from the railing, giving one last look back to the Harbour.  
“Hermione,” Draco said.  
She turned to face him, his lips hovering inches from hers as his hands reached for her. His fingertips cradled her neck, burying themselves in her messy hair as he tilted her face up towards his.   
“Happy birthday.”  
Draco closed the gap between them, her lips melting into his, their bodies melding together like missing puzzle pieces.  
Her hands reached for him, wrapping around his back. The coolness of his jacket tickled her fingertips as the warmth of his tongue filled her mouth. The scent of expensive cologne, beer, and something spicy and masculine teased her senses.  
Something deep inside her unfurled, reaching for him, begging for more. More touching. More kissing. More tasting. She needed more of Draco.  
“We should go start heading back to my place.” She gasped against his lips, their breath mingling in the air like invisible lovers.  
“Show me the way.” Something deep layered in his words, some hidden meaning she wanted to excavate and examine piece-by-piece. But rather than ask him, she pressed her body to his, holding him tightly to her as she spun, and apparated back to the living room of her small flat.  
She eased her grip on him as they stepped back from one another, soaking in their new surroundings.   
“Welcome home.”

 

***Can't wait for you guys to see what happens! Please leave kudos and/or a review!


	7. Chapter 7

“Sorry, it’s such a mess in here.” Hermione removed her suitcase from the edge of her bed. “I didn’t want to spend the money to get a furnished flat.” Hermione shimmied out of her coat, resting it on top of a folding chair beside the bed  
Draco glanced around the room, eying the tiny studio. A small bed jutted out from the middle of the living room/dining room/bedroom. A small kitchen had a pot, an electric tea kettle, and an empty pizza box sitting on top of the oven’s range.   
The earthy stench of dust and mold filled their nostrils as Draco frowned.  
“It’s not much,” she said. “But I didn’t think I would be staying here for so long.”  
“You really are waltzing matilda, aren’t you?” Draco asked. He peeled off his leather jacket. Sinewy muscles rolled beneath his pale skin as he stripped, resting his coat on top of hers.  
Hermione shrugged “What does that mean, exactly? That part of the song?”   
She sat on the mattress, the springs squeaking as her weight dipped the middle. She patted the pale blue sheets that covered the bed.  
“It means traveling around with all of your belongings. Like people who backpack on vacation.”  
“Well, this is a bit nicer than backpacking,” she said.  
As if on cue, a banging noise emitted from the flat upstairs, sending a small puff of dust raining down in the corner of her kitchen.  
“You know, I wouldn’t mind helping you find a nicer place,” Draco added. “I’d be happy to pick up the cost.”  
Hermione shook her head. “No. Thank you, Draco, but I don’t need money. I’m just trying to be frugal. I don’t want to squander my parents’ savings while I’m here.”  
Draco nodded as though he understood, even though she knew that the Malfoys came from such exorbitant wealth that he could never fathom the thought of living on a budget. “I understand, but if you need anything, anything at all, promise me you’ll ask.”  
“Draco, I—”  
“Promise me, Hermione.” He took her hands in his. Her cold fingers felt like icicles thawing between his hot palms.  
She found herself nodding as she stared at their joined hands. “Alright, I promise.”  
“Good.” He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head and the muscles in her cheeks stretched to a smile she couldn’t contain.   
“Now, don’t protest, but I got you something to celebrate the occasion.” His hand released hers and she winced—from his withdrawal or his gift, she didn’t know.  
Draco pulled out a small pouch from his trouser pocket and opened the little leather strings. He reached his hand inside, up to his elbow. Clearly, he knew his charm work—he was the second smartest in their class after all.   
“Draco, please no matter what it is, I can’t accept—”  
“Got it,” he said as he withdrew his hand and pulled out a small cake, coated in vanilla icing, colorful sprinkles, and nineteen lit, magically charmed birthday candles.  
“Happy birthday, Hermione.”  
She laughed as he held the cake closer, just under her nose for her to blow out the candles.  
“Draco, you’re unbelievably sweet,” she declared before taking a breath and blowing out the candles in one, hard puff.   
“So, what did you wish for? I’m sure I can guess.” He set the cake down on the folding chair, careful not to let the frosting touch their jackets.   
“I’m not so sure you can.” Hermione’s breath caught in her throat.   
She wondered if there was any residual liquor in her system to make her suddenly feel so wanton and bold. She felt sober enough.  
“Oh?” Draco turned back to her, his silvery gaze locking onto hers as his eyebrow raised in question.  
Hermione’s fingers trembled slightly as she rested her hand high on Draco’s muscular thigh.   
The spark in Draco’s eyes blazed into a raging inferno as he dipped his head lower, pressing her lips to his as Hermione slid her hand higher.   
“Hermione!” He gasped against her parted lips as her fingers came threatening close to his hardening cock, steadily tenting the fabric of his trousers beneath her fingertips.  
“Just one night,” she whispered.   
“Why?” Draco pulled away, leaving a heavy layer of desire settling in the air between them. His body pulled back, searching for answers, but his eyes blazed with a passion that echoed in Hermione’s core.  
“Because it feels right.” Heat crept up her cheeks as she pulled her hand away from Draco’s body. “Being around you…I haven’t laughed so much since the war ended. Honestly, Draco, I can’t even remember that last time I smiled. But these last few days have been like a dream to me. And I thought, maybe, you felt something for me since you’ve been helping me so much. I guess I misinterpreted your actions for more than just friendship.”  
Draco let out a small chuckle.  
The sound reverberated around the room, catching Hermione off guard.   
“No, Hermione, you haven’t misinterpreted anything.” Draco leaned forward and closed the gap between them.  
She opened her lips to speak, but his mouth found hers. His tongue caught her words and swallowed them whole. His lips pressed firmer against her as the warm taste of Draco flooded her mouth.  
A soft moan slipped from Hermione’s throat as Draco’s hands fisted in her hair, keeping her face still as his tongue explored her.  
“Wait,” he said as he pulled away from her.  
The air chilled between them as Hermione paused, her head still caught in Draco’s hands. “What?”  
“Doesn’t this feel rushed?” he asked, trying to rationalize the moment.  
Hermione smiled at him before she slipped out of his grasp. With wild abandon, she swung one leg around Draco until she was straddling his lap. The hard erection in his pants pressed against the seam of her jeans, teasing her and sending a wicked rush rippling throughout her body.  
“So, what?” she asked. “We live once, Draco. I want to make a memory. Something wild and spontaneous and passionate. Something I can look back on in fifty years and smile.”  
Draco paused, his lips pressed together for a moment.  
Hermione braced her ego, preparing for rejection.  
“I can’t think of a better birthday gift to give you.” Draco captured her lips in a demanding kiss as his hands splayed along her lower back, heat searing under the thin fabric of her jumper. His tongue plunged between her parted lips.  
The birthday cake sat forgotten on the chair, untouched and growing stale.


	8. Chapter 8

The five o’clock stubble on Draco’s chin scratched Hermione’s jaw as his kiss dipped lower. His warm lips pressed against the pulse of her neck, his tongue leaving a hot, slick trail over her skin.   
Hermione let out a soft whimper as Draco’s hands dipped under the hem of her jumper. His cool fingers burned a brand against her skin, heat pulsing through her veins as her hips ground against his in a hunger she couldn’t quite understand.  
“Draco,” she gasped as his teeth nipped a sensitive patch along her collarbone.   
A shiver racked her body as his hands rose higher, yanking up her jumper inch by inch. His fingers traced up the column of her spine, past the tight strap of her bra until his lips broke away from her and he eased the shirt over her head.  
Her hair tickled her shoulders as he carefully slid the fabric down her arms, tossing her shirt on the floor.  
Draco leaned back, his gaze skimming over every curve and plane of her body.  
Hermione slouched, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around herself and hide her body.  
“Beautiful,” he whispered. His finger traced along her upper arm, branding her with an invisible tattoo. Excitement raced over her skin, raising goose bumps along her arms.  
Draco’s eyes sparked with a fresh wave of excitement as is fingers dipped under the straps of her bra. They slid around her back, his firm fingers snapping open the clasps of her bra.  
With uncertainty, Hermione slipped the bra down her arms and tossed it on the floor behind her.  
She sucked in a breath as Draco’s eyes widened. The tension crackled in the air as a deep groan ripped from his throat.   
“Beautiful, Hermione.” With tenderness, he reached for her, his hands enveloping her breasts as he leaned forward and caught her lips against his.  
Her nerves melted into a puddle in his lap as his tongue parted her lips. His hands squeezed, testing the weight of her breasts before his thumbs circled her nipples. They puckered against his touch, tightening into stiff peaks as he caressed her skin.  
Pricks of excitement and need rippled from her breasts through her chest, warming her body.  
“Draco,” she murmured against his lips as her hips pressed harder against him.  
His erection notched in the crease of her jeans as she ground her body against his.  
A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he broke their kiss.   
“Not so fast, Hermione,” he said. “I want to savor this. Enjoy it. Take my time with your body. And your first time won’t be so easy.”  
She nodded as his thumbs brushed over her nipples, a gasp of air escaping her lips as a hot pulse of need washed over her.  
“I…I know,” she said. “But it feels like my skin’s too tight. My blood is near boiling. I’m so…wet.” She ground her hips against his, unsure if he was aware of the damp need that soaked her panties and threatened to dampen her jeans as well.  
Draco’s cock twitched against her. His brows furrowed as his face contorted into an expression of controlled pain. “God, Hermione, that’s so incredibly sexy,” he growled.  
“You think I’m sexy?” She didn’t bother trying to contain her smile as she repeated his words.  
“I think you’re sexy as sin, Hermione.” He tweaked her nipples, a tiny prick of pain mixing with the overwhelming heat that spread over her chest. “These are sensitive, aren’t they?” he asked as his thumbs encircled her nipples.  
Hermione nodded. “Of course. Aren’t they always?”  
Draco let out another soft chuckle. “No, Hermione. Certainly not for everyone. But I’ll make sure you enjoy this.”  
Draco released her breasts, his hands easing behind her. With one quick movement, he lifted her against his waist as he stood and spun them around. He eased Hermione onto her back, her head cushioned by the lumpy pillow. The bed squeaked with the hurried movement.   
Draco’s lips pressed against hers as he laid on top of her, his weight pressing her harder into the mattress.  
He leaned on his forearms as he rested between her spread legs.   
Draco’s body heat enveloped Hermione. Her taut nipples scratched along his cotton shirt as he slid down her body. Excitement pulsed heavy between her legs and she closed her eyes as her mind turned into a hazy fog, giving over to the wicked sensations happening to her.  
His lips blazed a teasing path along the column of her neck. His tongue flicked out, teasing her collarbone with soft kisses. Hermione’s body trembled with tension as his lips moved lower, kissing the tops of her breasts.  
Draco stopped.  
“Look at me,” he gently commanded.  
The world blinked into view as her gaze locked onto Draco’s steely grey eyes. His rose pink tongue slid between his lips as he licked over her tight nipple  
Pleasure sparked through her chest like fireworks. “Draco,” she gasped as her back dipped off the bed, her body arching toward his wicked tongue.  
His lips closed around her nipple and he gently sucked, his tongue flicking over her in a dangerous rhythm.  
She tried to close her legs as need pulsed through her core. She whimpered as her thighs squeezed Draco’s waist.  
A wicked chuckle slipped from Draco as his lips released her nipple, coasting down her stomach. He slid further down the bed, his fingers fumbling with the button of her jeans for a moment before popping them open and tugging down her zipper. A triangle of seam foam green cotton stuck out from the dark denim before Draco’s finger slipped under her panties. Carefully, he eased her jeans down her lean legs, tossing aside her shoes and socks before pulling her trousers free.  
Hermione’s legs spread wider as she laid naked to his gaze.  
His fiery gaze skimmed up every dip and curve of her body, sending a fresh wave of excitement that leaked from her pussy.  
“Gorgeous,” he murmured. “I must be dreaming.”  
A soft giggle escaped Hermione’s lips. Even under his stare, she felt free. She felt like a woman. She felt desired. She felt beautiful.  
“Draco.” Her voice coated with a huskiness that sounded foreign to her ears. “I want you.”  
A pain expression painted Draco’s face. “Say it again,” he commanded.  
“I want you, Draco.” Hermione spread her thighs wider, giving him an invitation he couldn’t refuse.  
Draco’s hand rested on her calves, his smooth skin pressing against her as his hands coated higher. He parted her legs wider as he leaned lower, his head dipping between her parted thighs.  
Hermione froze as his breath tickled her pussy. “Draco, what are—”  
Pleasure spiked like a white holt bolt of lightning through her system. Her hips bucked as a scream escaped her throat, taking them both by surprise.  
“You taste so sweet,” Draco purred between her legs before his tongue licked her clit again.   
Hermione whimpered as she fisted the sheets. Pleasure forced her eyes shut, as her body homed in on the foreign pleasure rippling out from her clit.  
Draco Malfoy damn sure knew how to use his tongue.  
Pleasure built in her lower belly, spreading throughout her body as an orgasm built.  
“Draco,” she moaned, her hips rising to move even closer to his incredible mouth. “Draco!”  
Her orgasm teetered on the edge, waiting. And just needed that extra push.  
Draco froze, pulling back as the pleasure ebbed away.  
Hermione blinked, the world slipping into a fuzzy view as Draco reached over his shoulder and yanked his jumper over his head, tossing it aside.  
The clinking of his belt filled the air, egging on the anticipation strung tight in Hermione’s bones.  
He stripped, muscles rolling and bunching as he tugged down the zipper of his pants. He rose from the bed, shoving down his trousers and boxers, kicking them off in a rush.  
His cock bobbed long and solid between his muscled legs, straining towards her. Draco bent down and pulled out a condom from his trouser pocket. In a flash, he tore open the foil packet and slid the rubber down to the base of his cock.  
“Please.” The word slipped from Hermione’s lips as Draco kneeled between her legs. His body weight pressed into the bed before he rested over her.  
He dug his forearms on either side of her, his cock nestled in the junction between her thighs.  
Hermione circled her hips, teasing his cock with the sticky dampness caught between her inner folds.  
Draco hissed over her. “You’re going to make me cum too soon if you keep that up.”  
A soft giggle slipped from Hermione’s lips.  
“This will hurt a bit,” he said. He cradled his arms beneath her, holding her close as he stared down into her eyes.  
“Hermione nodded, lost in the silvery pool of Draco’s gaze. Words dried on her tongue as the tip of Draco’s cock pressed against her slick entrance.  
Draco paused, his lips parting to speak, but in a split second, decided against it. He pressed his lips to hers, giving her a kiss that made her toes curl and her heart flutter.  
Pain and pressure mingled between her legs as Draco slid inside her inch-by-inch.   
Hermione whimpered against his lips. Pain burned between her thighs as he sunk deeper, finally sinking down to the root of his cock as a rough groan ripped from his throat.  
“God, Hermione,” he growled. “Are you alright?”  
“It hurts, she whimpered, pressing her forehead to his.  
He planted a tender kiss to her cheek. “It will fade in a minute. Your body just needs to get used to me.”  
She nodded, her fingernails digging into the skin along his back as the pain slowly, but surely, faded. She relaxed her grip. “I…I think I’m alright now.”  
Draco wiggled his hips, testing her. No pain, only a strange pleasure and pressure came between her legs.  
“You’re ready for me.” Draco captured her lips with his, pressing her into the bed and cradling her close to him as his hips pulled back before thrusting forward again.   
Pleasure ignited in Hermione’s core as the tip of his cock rubbed inside her. “Draco,” she gasped as his hips thrust again.  
Draco broke dipped his head against her shoulder as his lips found her collarbone. His teeth nipped hers as his movements became quicker, thrusting harder and deeper than before.  
Pleasure built again in her lower belly, more intense than before. Her heels dug into Draco’s buttocks as her nails gently scraped along the rolling muscles along his back.   
“Draco!” Hermione moaned loudly as the pleasure became too much, too intense. “Draco!”  
Hermione screamed as her orgasm broke over her, setting her body on fire as pleasure consumed every nerve, every muscle, every part of her being. She whimpered and jerked against Draco’s continuing thrusts as her pussy clenched down on his cock, milking him for all the pleasure he could offer her.  
“God, yes. Fuck. Hermione! Fuck!” With three jerky thrusts, Draco froze over her, his cock twitching against her quivering walls. His orgasm rippled over him, his muscles quivering under her fingers as his body gave out, losing all strength as he spent himself inside her.  
Hermione’s orgasm faded as Draco’s body pressed on top of hers. He cradled her close, resting more weight onto his arms before carefully sliding from her body.  
Sticky wetness clung to her inner thighs. The scent of sex and sweat perfumed the air.  
Draco pulled Hermione against him as he tried to catch his breath.  
“Are you okay?” he panted.  
Hermione nodded against his chest with a warm smile. “Yes, are you? Need some water?”  
Draco nodded. “I’ll get it in a minute. And I’ll get you a towel. I…just…stay here with me. For a minute anyway.”  
Hermione nodded as she curled up into Draco’s arms. Peace and satisfaction and warmth flooded her system like a drug. Though she wanted to stay awake, to keep talking, her body ignored her wants.   
She fell asleep in Draco Malfoy’s arms.


	9. Chapter 9

Sunlight slashed across the thin covers as Hermione stretched out like Crookshanks after a long, lazy nap by the fireplace. Her limbs ached and her muscles burned from a new form of exercise. Her shoulder and backside pressed against something warm and comforting as a strong arm slid around her waist and pulled her close.  
“Morning,” Draco’s velvety voice mumbled against her hair as he planted a small kiss.  
“Morning,” she said as she curled against him, lingering in the blissful moment of morning sunshine and afterglow.  
“How are you feeling?” Draco asked. His fingers tickled the skin along her stomach as his warm breath tickled her ear.  
“A bit sore,” she admitted.   
“How about I draw you a warm bath?”   
“That sounds perfect,” she said as he slid his arm away from her. Cool air slipped under the covers as Draco stood and shuffled off to the small washroom. The sounds of rushing water were music to Hermione’s ears. She let herself lay down for a moment longer.  
Shadows cast themselves over the bed as something fluttered in the window. A loud tapping against the glass broke the hazy morning trance.  
An owl perched on the edge of the windowsill and tapped again, louder and more insistent this time.  
Hermione stood, the covers slipping from her naked body as the cold air kissed her skin. She shivered as she strolled over to the window and let the owl inside.  
The snowy owl dashed into the small flat, dropping an envelope of the bed before it perched on top of the refrigerator and ruffled its feathers.  
“Everything alright in there?” Draco asked from the washroom.  
“There’s an owl,” Hermione said.   
She retrieved the emerald green envelope and flipped it over. It was addressed to her, in Ron’s handwriting.  
Her heart stretched like taffy in her chest as a smile spread over her cheeks. So, he hadn’t forgotten her birthday.  
Her finger slipped under the fold and pulled out a magical card with flowers blowing in the breeze. She opened the card.  
A picture slipped out, falling onto the bed as she read Ron’s message.  
Hermione,  
Happy birthday! I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate with you. Harry and I are wrangling up a group of Death Eaters hiding out in Germany. I’m sorry I can’t say more in case this falls into the wrong hands, but we’re safe.   
I miss you, Hermione. Not a day goes by where you’re not on my mind. I can’t wait until we’re both back home and can pick up where we left off. I hope you haven’t forgotten me while you’re in Australia. Are you still in Sydney? Any luck on finding your parents? Is there anything we can do to help?  
I got a letter from Ginny last week. She said Crookshanks is behaving himself, as good as that furball can. You know we have our differences, that cat and I, but we’re both gingers so we’ll have to get along. He seems to have taken a liking to Ginny. She says he Mrs. his mum.  
I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you, Hermione. A lot. Please come home soon.  
Love,  
Ron  
P.S.- Harry says, “Happy Birthday.”  
A small chuckle slipped from Hermione’s lips as she pressed the card to her bare chest for a moment. Ron was safe. And he was thinking about her. And even if they weren’t together, maybe there was a future for them after all when they both returned home.  
“Good news?” Draco stepped out of the bathroom and walked up behind her, slipping his arms around her.  
Warmth spread over Hermione’s skin as his fingers coasted over her waist, holding her against him.  
“I got a birthday card from Ron,” she said as she placed the card on the mess of sheets. She reached for the photograph and turned it over to see the image.  
Ron sat on a large rock on the edge of a lake. His head cast back as he laughed at something the photographer, probably Harry, had said. His sweeping mess of red hair covered his forehead as he threw his head back in laughter before composing himself. He stared at the camera and gave it a sly wink before the loop began again.  
Hermione’s belly fluttered as her heart pinched in her chest.  
She missed that smile, that laugh. She missed Ron’s ease and playfulness. She could use some of that Weasley cheer right about now.  
Draco’s arms slid from her, leaving her standing in the cool air. “You’re still in love with Weasley, aren’t you?”  
Hermione stilled at Draco’s words—not an accusation, but rather an observation.  
She did still love Ron. Even if they weren’t together. Even if she was halfway around the world. Her heart belonged to Ron Weasley.  
With reluctance, Hermione nodded, waiting for Draco to seethe, call her names, storm out of her flat.  
Instead…silence.  
She turned to face him, the spark in his eyes gone as he gave a solemn nod. He bent down and grabbed his clothes, getting dressed in front of her. “The water is nice and hot,” he said. “It’ll help your muscles relax a bit, but you should take some ibuprofen or something too.”  
“Draco,” she said. “I’m sorry.”  
Draco let out a small puff of air like a hollow laugh. “I know, Hermione. I knew you were still caught up in Weasley. I knew. I shouldn’t have done what I did last night.”  
“No,” she gasped. “I wanted it. I don’t regret it.”  
“Neither do I.” His gaze locked onto hers as his lips twisted into a suddenly shy smile. He ran his long fingers through his pale hair, locks tumbling down across his forehead.   
His brows crinkled together in a mix of pain and longing. “I’ll never forget it.”  
Hermione stepped around her pile of clothes, closing the gap between them. The air hummed with renewed energy as his gaze coasted over the dips and curves of her naked body.  
He sucked in a breath, his chest expanding under the tight fabric of his T-shirt.   
“Thank you, Draco.” She rested her hand over his heart, feeling his heart beat ever so faintly beneath her palm as she tilted her head upward. His lips met hers in a gentle kiss, one of tenderness and friendship and something much deeper.  
Another loud tapping rattled the window.  
Hermione pulled back as they watched a second owl rush through the open window and drop a white envelope on the bed beside Ron’s card.  
“You must be popular,” Draco teased.  
Hermione chuckled as she picked up the envelope and saw Draco’s name scribbled on one side. “It’s for you,” she said, handing the envelope off to him. “I’m going to go soak in the tub for a bit.”  
Draco nodded as he took the envelope and watched her saunter into the steam-filled bathroom.  
Hermione went through her usual morning routine and tied her hair back into a messy knot at the top of her head. She eased her stiff legs into the tub and slowly sank into the water until it reached just under her shoulders.  
Warmth trickled through her, heating her skin until it thawed her bones. Her muscles relaxed as her mind wandered off, thinking about Ron’s smile, Draco’s arms, Ron’s kiss, last night with Draco Malfoy in her bed.  
A gentle knock pulled Hermione out of her foggy thoughts.   
“Come in,” she said as she shifted, the water splashing around her. When had the water become cool?  
“You’ve been in here for a while.” Draco cracked the door open, gazing down at her with a mischievous smirk and a wicked glint in his eyes.  
Hermione’s core ached with emptiness as his gaze lingered over her.  
“You were right,” she said. “A hot bath was just what I needed.”  
Draco chuckled as he leaned his hip against the doorframe and crossed his sinewy arms over his chest. “Good, you should relax. I have a belated birthday present for you.”  
Draco paused, Hermione’s breath catching in her chest, as though she already knew what he was about to say.  
“Pemberley found your parents.”


	10. Chapter 10

The frosted glass window of an old door showed two shadows sitting on the other side. In gold stencil, the words Wendell Wilkins, DMD & Monica Wilkins, DMD hovered in the middle of the glass.  
“They’re here.” Hermione’s fingers trembled as her body froze. Mumbles slipped from under the crack in the door. Familiar sounds that played on her heartstrings like a cello bow.   
Just beyond the door were Mr. and Mrs. Granger.   
“Are you alright?” Draco asked. He slipped her hand in his, entwining their fingers, and giving her a reassuring squeeze.  
Hermione’s hand vibrated in his. She was shaking.  
“I can’t believe I found them.” Tears pricked at Hermione’s eyes, but she hurriedly wiped them away with the back of her free hand. “After all this time. I never thought to check the dental schools. It’s so obvious.”  
Draco gave her fingers another squeeze. “Hermione, you can’t blame yourself for that. You spent so long searching for them. I’m sure they’ll just be happy that you’re back and alive and safe.”  
“How did Pemberley even think to look here?” she asked, her gaze fixating on the gold letters until they same in a teary blur.  
“He’s the best,” Draco said. “I don’t question his methods.”  
Hermione bit her lip and nodded as she brushed away the tears again.  
“You can do this. You know the spell to restore their memories,” Draco said. “And I’m here for you.” He released her hand and stepped back.  
Every muscle in Hermione’s body seemed to shake as she reached for the doorknob, her clammy fingers slipping on the old brass knob.  
She opened the door as pushed it wider.  
Mr. and Mrs. Granger glanced up from their desks on opposite sides of the large office, gazing up at their daughter with confused stares.  
“Can we help you, miss?” her mother asked.  
Mr. Granger rose from his seat. “Are you lost, girl?”  
Hermione’s heart squeezed in her chest like it was a sponge being wrung dry. “Mum? Dad?”  
The Grangers glanced at one another, confusion shifting to worry as their gazes turned back to Hermione.  
She pulled her wand out from her sleeve and pointed it at her father.  
“Memento.” With two quick flicks of her wand, a jet of silver-blue light burst from the tip of her wand.  
Her mother screamed as the jet punched Mr. Granger in between his eyes, casting him backward onto the floor.  
“Security!” Mrs. Granger shouted.  
Hermione turned, tears brimming as she saw the fear bubbling in her mother’s eyes. “Memento.”  
Her mother’s body flung backward, knocking into a bookshelf before falling forward on the floor.   
“Mum!” Hermione dashed forward as she stuffed her wand back up her sleeve. A foggy groan echoed from her dad as he slowly sat up, rubbing his head like a Saturday morning cartoon character. Mrs. Granger rolled onto her back, catching her breath as the wind knocked out of her.  
“Mum!” Hermione rushed over to help her mother, carefully easing her upright in a sitting position. “Are you alright? One of you, say something!”  
“Hermione?” Her dad’s groggy voice saying her name was music to Hermione’s ears. A bubble of relief expanded in her chest.  
“Mum?” Hermione asked as she eased her mother on the edge of the bookcase. “Are you alright?”  
“Hermione?” Her mother coughed, breathing in a long, slow breath. “Hermione? What happened?”  
Tears flowed down Hermione’s cheeks as she flung her arms around her mother’s neck.  
“You’re alright!” She sobbed with wild abandon against her mother’s chest as her mum hugged Hermione with a tight squeeze.  
“My head is spinning.” Her mother gasped as she hugged and rocked her daughter tighter.  
“Girls?” Mr. Granger crawled over, flinging his arms around Hermione and his wife. “Hermione! What happened?”  
Hermione sniffed as she pulled away from her mother enough to wipe away the tears.  
She caught herself smiling as she leaned back and saw them both like she was seeing them for the first time. It had been over a year since she’d sent them to Melbourne. And now they were safe.   
They could be a family again.  
“I have so much to tell you,” Hermione said as she took their hands in hers. “Do you…do you know where you are?”  
“We’re in Sydney,” Mrs. Granger said with a nod. “Why? Hermione, why did we move to Sydney? Why weren’t you with us? Why didn’t you come back after school this summer? What—”  
“Hold on now,” Mr. Granger said, holding up his hand to calm his wife down before she slipped into the hysterics edging in her voice. “I’m sure Hermione can explain this.”  
Hermione nodded. “I can. I promise I will tell you both everything. But I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you both.”  
Tears spilled out again, burning her eyes as she slumped forward. Both of her parents caught her in a massive hug that seemed to swallow Hermione whole. Love consumed her, surrounded her, and uplifted her. She’d found her parents. They were all safe. Finally, they could all go home.  
A small popping noise behind her pulled her out of her parents’ arms. Hermione turned the office door leading to an empty hallway.  
Draco was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

***I got so many comments I couldn't wait to post the next chapter! Only one more after this. Please comment!

Hermione rolled up her jumper and stuffed it into the corner of her small suitcase. The melancholy whir of the zipper on her suitcase brought her out of her dreamy state of mind.   
She was leaving Australia. She’d found the Grangers. She was going home.  
She rested her suitcase against the door before rummaging through her purse. She checked for her passport, her airplane ticket home, her books for the long flight back to London. Everything was ready and in order.  
Then why did she feel as if she was missing something?  
A small pop echoed behind her.  
“Good, I didn’t miss you.” Draco’s velvety voice slid over Hermione’s skin like a hug from an old friend.  
“Draco,” she said as she turned to face him. “You almost did. I was getting ready to leave. I was wondering if you were going to come and say goodbye.”  
“I got your owl. I wasn’t about to miss my chance to see you off.” Draco glanced around the room. “Where are your parents?”  
“I’m meeting them at the airport. They had to take care of some details with their Sydney house before leaving.”   
Draco closed the gap between them in three long strides. Without a word, he kissed her and pressed her close until her body molded to his. Hard muscle met soft curves. His large hands splayed over her lower back, keeping her close.  
Hermione slid her hands through the soft locks of silvery-blond hair. Her fingers entwined in the thick strands as her body fit against his like a puzzle piece.  
Her well-worn denim jacket pressed against his custom-made suit. Her chapstick smeared along his lips as he kissed her with feverish need—a kiss to say goodbye. A kiss to remember their time together. A kiss to remember the memories they’d made waltzing matilda through the city.  
“I’m going to miss you,” Draco said as they broke apart.  
“I’ll miss you too,” she said, keeping her arms wrapped around his neck as they gazed into one another’s eyes for what they both feared may be the last time.   
“Can you do me a favor when you get back?” Draco asked.  
“Of course.”  
“Don’t tell anyone about our time together.”  
Hermione stiffened in his embrace, her muscles freezing over. “Why? Are you too embarrassed for anyone to know you were with—”  
“No!” His brows furrowed. “I’d be proud for anyone to know I’d fallen for the most incredible witch of our time.”  
Her breath caught in her throat until she felt lightheaded. “Fallen?”   
Draco brushed aside her question and continued. “My family is still fighting their way back into the norms of wizard society. The Malfoy name has been dragged through the mud. I don’t want any of that backlash to come back to you. I don’t want your name tarnished because you’d been with me.”  
Hermione shook her head in surprise, gazing up at him with shock. “Draco…I…I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.  
“Promise me.” He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Promise me this will stay a memory for just us to share. I don’t want the rest of the world to tarnish it. If anyone on either side of the war found out, they’d find a way to taint and spoil it. Even if we can’t be together, even though you’re in love with someone else, I don’t want the memories we’ve made here to be ruined.”  
Her heart dipped in her chest. She knew Draco was right. If Ron or Harry found out, they’d spoil it somehow. Call Draco names. Judge her. Think less of her.   
No, this would stay a secret between her and Draco—a memory they could both look back on and smile, like sharing an inside joke with themselves.  
“Alright,” she said. “I promise.”  
“Thank you.” Draco’s words slipped between those full lips with a sigh of relief. His warm breath tickled her lips like a ghost of his kiss.  
A word hung in Hermione’s mind, teasing her. She forced up that Gryffindor courage and brought it to her lips, knowing she may never have the opportunity to ask again.  
“Draco,” she said. “Why did you say ‘fallen’ like that?”  
Draco paused, stiffening in her arms as his eyes glinted like forged steel. “I started falling for you a long time ago, I think. Even back at school, but we both know nothing could have come of it. Even if I didn’t think you absolutely loathed me, I could never muster up the courage to tell you how I felt. My time with you in Sydney only confirmed my feelings for you.”  
Hermione gazed up at him, opening her lips to speak.  
Draco pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her for a moment. “Please, don’t. Don’t say anything. I saw how you looked at Weasley’s picture the other day. I know you’re still in love with him, Hermione. I understand. And even if you didn’t love him, this—us—would be too complicated.”  
Draco’s special smile, the smile only for her, stole Hermione’s strength, leaving her knees trembling and her heart fluttering.   
“Hermione, I will be forever grateful that we had this time together. It’s a memory I will always cherish.”  
Draco leaned forward and gave her one long, lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you.” His breath tickled her damp lips. With his diamond smile and a spark in his eye, he slipped from her arms, turned away from her and apparated out of the room.  
A sob echoed from Hermione’s throat as nothing but the empty flat stretched out before her.  
Draco Malfoy had just stepped out of her life.   
Forever.  
An invisible boulder seemed to press on her chest as Hermione took several steps backward and sat back on the mattress. Her hands trembled as another loud sob ripped from her, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.  
Draco Malfoy was in love with her. And she wondered if she loved him too.  
She loved Ron. Truly, deeply. She felt her love for him in her bones.   
But Draco was a rock, the steady sort of love and affection Hermione needed in a time of her life where nothing felt safe or certain.  
She sniffled, forcing herself to regain her composure. She had a flight to catch. She stood on wobbly legs, grabbed her suitcase with a shaky hand and left the small flat.  
No looking back.  
Hermione decided, then and there, to return home. Her parents were waiting for her. Soon, she would see Ron again, and all would be right in her little magical bubble of a world.  
And her time waltzing matilda with Draco would be the fond memory she’d wanted.  
If only she hadn’t gone to Australia and fallen in love with Draco Malfoy…


	12. Chapter 12

Just in time for Australia Day, the last chapter is here! Thank you all so much for reading!

Epilogue

Hermione’s heart pinched as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of Platform 9 ¾. Rose’s little arm peeked out from a crack in one of the windows as she waved goodbye to her parents. Hermione remembered that little hand wrapping around her finger the day Rose was born. Now she was waving goodbye.  
Pride bubbled like a potion in her belly.   
Her daughter was off to Hogwarts!   
“Mom.” Hugo shuffled beside her and tugged on the sleeve of her jacket. “When can I go to Hogwarts?”  
“In a few years, when you’re older.” Hermione smiled down at his swishy mess of red hair—a feature she could never tame no matter how hard she tried.  
“Come on!” Ron beamed down at his son and tousled the boy’s hair, pulling him in close as he steered him towards the barrier back to King’s Cross Station. “Let’s go meet up with the Potters. I think Lily wanted to go get some ice cream.  
“From Mr. Coney?” Hugo asked.  
Hermione laughed. “Sure, that sounds wonderful.”  
Ron glanced over his shoulder at her and gave her an affectionate smile that melted her insides and left her always smiling like a fool. Not the professional Ministry employee she tried so hard to project to everyone else.  
Around Ron, she could relax and be herself.  
Hermione’s gaze shifted over Ron’s shoulder for a moment.  
Hermione’s breath lodged in her throat.  
Draco Malfoy stood on the platform. He stared down the long track, still watching the Hogwarts Express trail off in the distance.  
“Ron,” Hermione said. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you all at the ice cream shop.”  
Ron nodded, presuming it was unofficial Ministry of Magic business as always. Lots of deals and decisions were made outside the Ministry’s walls.  
Ron and Hugo stepped through the brick barrier, leaving a few parents straggling behind. Some wiped tears from their eyes. Other chatted with old friends and family.  
Hermione’s knees trembled as she walked closer to Draco, who still hadn’t noticed her.  
How long had it been since she’d seen him? Nearly nineteen years?   
Naturally, he looked older—much older—and worried. He stood alone, with a wedding band glinting on his finger, but no more glint in his eye.  
“Draco?” she asked softly. Stopping several feet from him.  
“I was wondering if you’d seen me.” He tore his gaze away from the fading trail of smoke—all that remained of the Hogwarts Express’ departure—and faced her.  
Though the years had been many, they’d been kind to him. Sharp lines fanned from the corners of his eyes, though the spark was no longer there. Instead, they swam like a silvery water that tamped down the youth and fire that once lit him from the inside out.  
He seemed wiser with the years. His thin lips twisted upward in a warm smile, a ghost of the diamond smile she’d seen so long ago. A smile that haunted her memories for years.  
He opened his arms and she walked right into them, giving him a tight hug as he hugged her even harder, placing a rough kiss on the top of her head. “It’s so good to see you, Hermione.”  
“And you,” she said as she pulled out of his arms. “I shouldn’t be so surprised. Platform 9 ¾ of all places. Obviously, you must have someone going to school there.”  
Draco nodded, his expression shifting to one of pride and concern mingled together. “Yes, my son, Scorpius. It’s his first year.”  
“My daughter’s too.” Hermione couldn’t contain the pride in her smile. “My oldest.”  
“Oh? I’m sure she’s as brilliant as her mother.”  
Hermione blushed at the compliment. “She’s certainly gifted. She reads even more than I did at her age. She wants to be Head Girl.”  
“Sounds like someone I know.” Draco’s smile shifted into a grin that left Hermione’s insides melting. She forced herself to remain calm as a whirlwind of butterflies tickled her stomach.  
“How are you, Draco? How’s your family?”   
Like tossing water onto a kindling fire, Draco’s smile died. “My wife, Astoria…she’s sick. I don’t think she’ll be around much longer. She left just as the train pulled out and apparated home,” he said. “I wanted to wait around a bit longer. You know, watch the train leave. Reminisce a bit about the days at Hogwarts.”   
“I’m so sorry.” Hermione touched his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out, Draco.”  
Draco nodded as he removed her hand from his shoulder. She expected him to drop it or worse, push it away, but instead, he surprised her. He raised her hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on the top of her fingers. “You’re as kind-hearted as ever, Hermione. Thank you. I wish things had been different in school.”  
Longing hung in the air between them like humidity—heavy and making it harder for Hermione to breathe.  
“We all had quite a few adventures,” Hermione said, shifting the subject to something more lighthearted. She didn’t want to spoil this moment.   
“One of the younger Gryffindors has been interviewing Harry for a series of books. Jo Rowling, a clever witch. We used to play wizard chess in the common room. It’s amazing how much we all remembered looking back.”   
Draco chuckled, the warm sound reverberating in Hermione’s core. Feelings swirled and shifted as a kaleidoscope of old emotions changed. Long gone was the heat and intensity of infatuation and youthful passion. Now tender affection and compassion flooded her system.  
“Hogwarts was full of adventure,” he said. “So was Australia.”  
Hermione laughed, a smile stretching her cheeks. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”  
“I know,” he nodded. “Nineteen years since we went waltzing matilda around Sydney.”  
“I can’t hear that song without thinking about you,” she admitted.  
A faint blush stained Draco’s cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair, some of the lighthearted boyishness she remembered flooding his smile.   
“And you?” he asked. “How have you been?”  
“I’m doing well. Ron and I both.”  
“I heard you’d married Weasley,” Draco said with a friendly smile that didn’t match the eye roll he gave her. “What a shocker.”  
Hermione laughed. “Well, I have a lot to thank you for, Draco.”  
Draco raised a slender eyebrow. “Me?”  
She nodded. “Yes. I owe you a thousand ‘thank you’s.’ You convinced me to return to school right after I found my parents. Now I’m working for the Ministry, getting ready to run for Minister for Magic next year when Kingsley Shacklebolt retires.”  
Draco beamed at her, and for a moment, his diamond smile returned.  
Hermione’s chest felt ready to pop like a confetti-filled balloon. She’d dreamed of seeing that smile again—even for a fleeting moment.   
“I knew you could do it,” Draco said, taking her hands in his. “You were always a clever witch, Hermione. Clever. Brilliant. Beautiful.” His hand raised and touched her cheek in a sign of tender affection. His silvery eyes glistened with longing, memories, and emotion that Hermione couldn’t name, couldn’t understand, but she felt the same.  
Hermione leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on Draco’s thin cheek. “I still love you, Draco Malfoy.”  
Hermione stepped out of the warmth of his arms and released his hands, putting a professional amount of distance between them.   
“I should get back to my family,” she said. “They’re waiting for me.”  
“And I should go home and check on my wife,” Draco sighed. Draco reached out his hand for a handshake. “Take care.”  
“You too, Draco.” Hermione slid her hand into his, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle—a detail she’d nearly forgotten. Every part of her body fit almost perfectly with Draco.   
She pulled her elbow back to remove her hand, but Draco held on, his fingers squeezing hers.   
With a sharp tug, Draco yanked Hermione closer to him.   
She stumbled, nearly falling forward as Draco caught her against his chest. He lowered his head, capturing her lips against his in one final kiss—one they both knew would be their last. Passion. Memories. Longing. Desire. Every emotion on the spectrum flooded their mouths, lingering in the briefest kiss as he pulled away.  
Hermione righted herself as Draco released her. “Goodbye, Hermione Granger.” Draco took a step back, but for a moment, the spark returned to his eyes.  
Then he spun, apparated, and disappeared off the platform.  
The empty platform filled Hermione’s vision. No one else lingered around to watch their fleeting moment. She wasn’t entirely sure it happened at all, except for the tingling still on her lips—the ghost of their last kiss.  
With a smile, Hermione raised her fingers to her lips and touched them. For an instant, she felt nineteen again, kissing Draco in Sydney while they waltzed matilda along the Harbour.  
Then she turned back to the barrier, stepped into the crowded train station, and returned to her normal life with a happy, secret memory that she could look back on and smile at for years to come—all thanks to Draco Malfoy.

THE END

***Thank you all so so much for reading! Please, if you haven't done so already, leave kudos, and if you have, please leave a comment. Love you all!

XOXO  
Wendy


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